The Visitors

Good friends don’t desert people, and that’s why I’m still in touch with Holly.

Sometimes, really bad things happen to good people and they’re not always strong enough to bounce back to the person they were.

I, for one, am not about to write my friend off, as others have done.

The way Holly created that twilight world in her head taught me something. She lived in a place halfway between the truth and illusion, and I realised I’d been guilty of exactly the same thing myself.

I’d built Nick Brown up into some sort of superman who was hell-bent on avenging my interference. Yet in reality, he didn’t give a toss about me, his wife or Della. He cared only for himself.

I’ve been round there to apologise, and we shook hands. I don’t think we’ll ever be best buddies, but I’m not scared to walk down the street any more.

I’m spending my time getting the house shipshape. I take swatches and pictures in to Holly and we choose stuff together. She says she lives for my visits.

It’s a nice feeling, knowing that someone is reliant on you, couldn’t manage without you.

The clinic staff tell me she’s doing well, and although there’s no release date yet, we both live in hope that one will come. It’s a pleasant establishment as these sorts of places go; I pay the fees from Mrs Barrett’s lottery winnings. The money Holly dreamed of finally getting her hands on.

When she recovers, she’s going to come here and live with me. Just as friends, of course. We’ve both got our hang-ups, thanks to our colourful pasts.

I take a stack of new lilac-coloured towels upstairs. I bought them yesterday, when Holly told me she’d like a lilac and cream bathroom.

Before I get to the bathroom, I open the door on the left and look inside. Holly’s old bedroom.

Her face smiles out at me from the thousands of pictures that cover the walls and even the ceiling. My secret photographs paid off in the end.

I spot the ones taken from the bottom of the garden with my zoom lens… Holly in her bra and pants, lit up at her bedroom window like an angel.

I thought my cover was blown that night she spotted me out there in the bushes. I was only there to watch out for her, keep her safe, but I’ve never told her it was me.

I don’t want to worry her or disrupt her plans to live here.

I’m taking it easy, not rushing anything. I have all the time in the world.

But once she gets here, I’ll make sure she never wants to leave.

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